Chapter 5
TALLY
“Order up!”
The commercial kitchen in the clubhouse had basically exploded.
Once a distillery that hosted events like weddings, retreats, and wine tastings, the kitchen had been transformed by Jenna, the club’s first, and for a really long time, only ol’ lady.
It was her domain, and there was even a plaque somewhere on the wall that claimed it as such.
But in the past year, Jenna’s battle with LOMS—late-onset multiple sclerosis—had slowly been pulling her from her kitchen.
Tally, in an effort to take some weight and responsibility off her shoulders, as well as earn her place as the outsider in the club, started to take over.
To Tally’s utter delight, Jenna welcomed the assist and held no animosity towards Tally encroaching on her turf.
Then Tally was approached by Sophia, another ol’ lady.
Her family was like small-town royalty in Mount Grove.
Hell, the woman’s maiden name was Groveton, basically stamping her blood with the town.
Her parents had three children, and at the end of this year, would be dividing their various businesses amongst them. Sophia was inheriting the town’s diner.
The Mount Grove Diner had an interesting history.
Because no one called it the Mount Grove Diner.
It was just the diner. Tourists were easily spotted because they were unaware of the history, or the fact that the diner was the pride and joy of the small-town.
Like many other communities in Small-Town America, corporations and franchises had tried to make their mark here too.
But they all failed. Not even McDonald’s was able to stand up against the diner.
The diner, a local bakery, and a local pizzeria had survived, because residents of Mount Grove were that loyal to each other. Even if the cost of dinner would have been cheaper at a fast-food chain, they still did not support them.
Personally, Tally admired that tenacity. It was one of the many reasons she’d fallen in love with Mount Grove upon moving here. And now she got to keep that legacy going.
Sophia had approached Tally with an offer of a partnership.
With Tally’s experience running a restaurant, she would be an indispensable resource to Sophia.
Tally had jumped on the opportunity, loving that she finally was going to have a place in this community that didn’t involve just serving the club brothers meals.
Not that she didn’t enjoy that, but running the diner with Sophia would give Tally a bigger purpose.
Tally’s first impression of the diner was that it was too small.
She had no idea how a corner restaurant like that had fed that amount of daily people as their records claimed.
Coming from a city, Tally had honestly suspected that the diner was laundering money or faking records, but further investigation proved otherwise.
Everything added up. There was no alternative revenue.
The diner was literally working non-stop from open to close to feed the hungry people of Mount Grove.
Sophia hadn’t just inherited that one business, though. She’d inherited the building block that the diner sat in and was able to work her Sophia Magic to free up the office space next to the diner. And then construction plans started.
The diner couldn’t just shut down, though.
People of Mount Grove were relying on the diner to feed them.
Some of the elderly residents had standing orders because they couldn’t cook or didn’t want to cook anymore.
Single parents with limited incomes appreciated the large portions the diner offered, giving them multiple meals for the price of one.
And so on and so forth. The town needed the diner to stay in business.
Then there was the fact that a good amount of the town was skeptical of the Blind Chef of Atlanta. It didn’t matter how many news articles or TV interviews they read and saw about Tally’s history, they still could not believe that a woman who was born without eyeballs could be a chef.
Well, fuck them. Because Tally wasn’t just a chef. She was a fucking awesome chef, and she was working her ass off to prove it to them. First with the annual Thanksgiving feast and now with the temporary menu the diner offered.
Being winter, the diner couldn’t just close its doors and expect people to eat outside or offer delivery-only meals. Most of the construction was happening on the other side of the wall that separated the spaces and then that wall would be taken out.
The diner had had a set menu for decades.
The same grilled cheese, burgers, Caesar salads, milkshakes, and the like.
Tally would keep certain staples—because she likely would be run out of town by a mob holding pitchforks if she didn’t—but she also wanted to expand what the diner could offer.
Using the construction as an excuse, Tally was slowly introducing new menu items to the townspeople and getting their feedback.
The club members were her first guinea pigs for any dish.
A long plastic table had been erected in the center of the clubhouse. It had been put out for Thanksgiving, and then had never been taken down. Not when a number of club members were willing to sacrifice their mornings to be Tally’s test subjects.
“Whatever it is,” Ranger practically purred from her left, “it smells divine.”
Tally shook her head, not bothering to hide her smile. He was such a flirt, but she knew he’d never act on it. And not just because Tally had proven she could kick his ass.
As she brought the cart to a halt next to the table, Tally clicked her tongue.
Her estimate based on the voices at the table was accurate.
She might have been born without eyes, but Tally was only blind in terms of legality.
In truth, Tally saw much more than people with two working eyeballs did.
She saw with her body, honing her other senses to a world beyond sight.
Some might think echolocation useless for a human, but they were dead wrong.
Tally might never know what the color blue looked like or know what an elephant looked like.
Her world was a mixture of shapes and vibrations that gave her the ability to notice things others missed.
“This is my take on traditional Eggs Florentine,” Tally explained to the seven hungry people at the table.
Ghost was the club’s new President, or he would be at the end of the year.
Tally wondered if he was here because he was trying to show support or to prove that the mantle of responsibility that he’d been voted into would not change who he was.
Ranger and Ghost had a bromance going that had many of the others wondering how Ranger was going to handle Ghost’s new position of authority over him.
So far, Tally wasn’t sensing anything different between the two brothers.
Jigsaw, Bones, and Keys were present. She didn’t know Bones or Jigsaw very well, but she was quite fond of Keys.
He was the kid brother among the club members.
At only twenty-four, he was also the smartest person Tally knew.
He was also the most na?ve. Even after being part of Navy Intelligence for years, Tally got the impression that Keys didn’t have a lot of real-world knowledge.
In his own words, Keys understood computers, not people.
Prospects Darren and Viktor were also eagerly awaiting their breakfast. Both prospects tried time and time again to help Tally in the kitchen, but she always ended up kicking them out.
Her kitchen, her rules. And she didn’t have the time or the patience to deal with amateurs.
Viktor was the strong, silent type, and despite the spelling of his name, had a strong Southern accent. Darren was Black like her.
Ethnicity didn’t mean much to Tally. She knew she was half Black.
She understood and appreciated her heritage, but just like the colors of the rainbow meant nothing to her, so did the color of one’s skin.
There literally was no race in Tally’s mind, just people.
Hair color, clothing style, imperfections everyday people thought were important and mattered more than someone’s life or health had no effect on Tally. She saw beyond the standard.
In a way, this made her as na?ve as Keys.
She’d been discriminated against, both as a Black woman and as a blind woman.
She’d had to fight tooth and nail to get to where she was.
No culinary school would touch her until she practically forced them to.
She understood race as a term, but would never understand why the color of someone’s skin or their sexual orientation or their gender made them less.
But unless she was reminded of certain cultural judgements, she literally forgot most of the time.
She was far too busy to deal with that bullshit.
“Poached eggs over a bed of sauteed spinach with hollandaise sauce with a side of baked parmesan tomato and roasted sage potatoes. And the first person whom I hear ask for the fucking ketchup will be forced to clean my fucking kitchen from top to bottom, and believe me when I tell you I can smell a single grain of salt from fifty yards away.”
She couldn’t, but Tally enjoyed fucking with them. They called her Daredevil and thought she had superpowers. Tally planned on keeping up that illusion as long as possible. What was life without a little fun, anyway?
“Holy fuck, this looks good.” That came from Bones on her far right.
Tally beamed at the man. “Eat up,” she told the table at large.
She was about to head back into the kitchen when the faint sound of bare feet caught her sensitive ears.
Her man carried no scent that was uniquely his, but in the past several months, Tally had started to pick up her own scent on him.
Like she’d marked him as her territory. She liked that.
A chorus of “Oh God, my eyes!” and “Fucking hell, Scar, put on some pants!” came a moment later. Tally was already removing her hat and apron in anticipation.
Scar was an enigma. Mute after being tortured for several weeks in the Afghan mountains, his body was littered with more scars than a Dalmatian had spots. Including a very long, jagged one down the left side of his face. And fuck, Tally loved her man.
In a word, Scar was dangerous. A bit unhinged with no boundaries whatsoever, he was not someone many would want to get to know. Often, they took one look at him and went screaming in the opposite direction. Even some of his club brothers were wary of him. Fucking fools.
They didn’t see what Tally saw. They didn’t see the man who would sacrifice everything to protect those he loved. The man who was suffering inside, plagued with the memories and tortures he’d endured at the hands of his captors.
Scar was dangerous, and that was why she loved him. He was purely, entirely himself. He didn’t give a damn about the insignificant things, the cares and pressures society put on a person. His world was much more black and white. Protect his family—and kill everyone else.
Due to his torture, Scar had a bad case of insomnia.
Prior to meeting Tally, he’d only sleep ten or fifteen minutes at a time every day or two.
Short bursts when he felt safe enough to close his eyes.
With the help of Tally’s presence in his life, as well as the sessions they’d been going to with the club’s psychologist, Dr. Rutenberg, Scar had been slowly starting to sleep more.
He still had little to no boundaries, but he’d been getting one to two hours of sleep per night now.
Which for him, was monumental. Dr. Rutenberg also encouraged him to stay in bed with Tally, rather than wandering at night.
In the hopes he would go back to sleep or could relax, if not rest.
Some mornings, like this morning, Tally awoke to find him still asleep.
She’d slip from bed, dress, and head to the kitchen.
Knowing her time away from him was limited, because he would find her.
He always did, and he rarely bothered to dress to do it.
For Scar, why bother putting on clothing when he was only going to take it off again to fuck her.
Tally let her body go loose as strong arms snaked around her waist. She was hoisted up onto his shoulder with her front hanging over his back.
Laughing at the groans and protests from his club brothers at his state of undress, Tally waved to them.
Someone would clean up the kitchen for her. Most likely the prospects.
“Bye!” she called out. “Don’t forget to tell me your thoughts on that menu item!”